


Don't Tell Ron

by Darkravenwrote



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-29 05:07:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkravenwrote/pseuds/Darkravenwrote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry had three rules when it came to being in love with Draco Malfoy: Don't tell Ron. Don't let Ron find out. Don't get caught by Ron. But one Saturday a week before Christmas just really wasn't his lucky day…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Tell Ron

**Author's Note:**

> I think this was one of the first ff pieces I ever posted back a good couple of years ago and while my writing style is completely different now - see 'Forget me not' - I still like to remember where I came from.
> 
> I've rated it T because I believe there's some swearing in there and loosely sexualy themes.
> 
> Enjoy and reviews are welcome.

**Don't Tell Ron**

"…and then, as if that wasn't enough, her face turned bright purple!"

The three Gryffindors burst out laughing as they puffed and panted their way back up the stairs after breakfast one bright Saturday morning.

"God, I've _got_ to get some of those from your brothers, Ron," Seamus chuckled as they passed a fourth floor landing, "oh, and you know those…er…what are they…the blindness thingies…"

"Blinding Biscuits?"

"Yeah, those. I was driving my aunt mad when she visited over the holidays. Ran out though, need to get some more."

Renewed echoes of laugher filled the stairways in the vicinity. Their cheerful banter would continue all the way up to the seventh floor. Dean was telling the newest stories of his home life. Of how even after more than six years as a citizen of the Wizarding World, he still hadn't ever shown his parents a chocolate frog or a fanged Frisbee!

When they reached the sixth floor, however, during a short pause in their merry conversation, they halted when they heard a noise. Ron pressed a finger to his lips and frowned at his two companions. The sound came again and all three took an involuntary step back. A lust filled groan?!

"God, Hermione will have my head if she hears I didn't check this out," Ron whined to the boys next to him, jabbing a finger at the Prefect's badge on his chest.

And so, with a dejected slouch to his shoulders, Ronald Weasley rounded the corner to find himself staring at one Draco Malfoy pinning some skinny guy to the wall in a nearby corner.

The next moment, Seamus and Dean came running as the first words that came to his mind were blurted out loud enough for the whole castle to hear.

"THAT'S DISGUSTING!"

"Ron, what…oh…"

Then, several things happened at once. Malfoy's head whipped around so fast Ron swore he heard the arse's neck click a few times, the bastard's eyes widened fractionally and he practically flung his partner-in-crime against the adjacent wall, affectively hiding him from view.

The next time Ron looked – one does need to blink you know – the Slytherin looked as impassive as ever, although his next words definitely held some anger.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Weasel?"

"Busy were we? I always figured you'd turn out to be a poof."

"Mind your own damn business. You don't see me sticking my nose into you and the Mudblood's sex life."

("Ron, calm down, your ears look like they've got sun burn," cough-snigger-cough.)

"You take that back!"

"Only stating facts, Gryffindork. Now, if you don't mind, I _am_ actually busy."

With that, he turned his back on them and bent to attack his partner's ear. The Gryffindors were unsure of what to do. Really, Ron knew he should intervene, but just the sight of Malfoy, his hand up another boy's shirt and slurping on the hidden victim's earlobe, was enough to make him feel sick. He should probably help the poor bugger…

A heavy, breathless panting was erupting from the still unidentified yet apparently not unwilling 'victim' and so, convincing themselves that they could do no more without vomiting up their breakfasts, the three Gryffindors turned and bolted for the safety of the common room another floor up.

Meanwhile, as soon as their footsteps receded, Draco immediately stepped back from the other boy, allowing the sun light from the window to hit his panicked face.

A frown crinkled the Slytherin's brow and his eyes clouded with worry. Harry Potter stood in front of him, supported only by the wall. He was past the stage of hyperventilation and seemed unable to breathe at all. His hands clutched at his chest and his eyes were wide. Even from his distance of a good metre away, Draco swore he could hear the other boy's pulse pounding throughout his still body and into the stone walls. A single exclamation escaped the black haired boy before his legs gave way underneath him.

"Fuck, that was close!"

* * *

"Can you believe that prick?! I should have jinxed his arse off!"

"Ron, you're meant to be studying, please do so."

"But Hermione, you don't even know what he did yet."

"It's Malfoy, I'll get over it. Besides, I just managed to get Harry into his potions revision."

Ron had to slap a hand over his mouth to stop himself from bursting out laughing – he still hadn't bothered to mend the rip in his collar from the last time Madam Pince threw him out.

"You might want to check on him again."

"Honestly, Ronald, I know Harry well enough to know…"

"…that he's jumping for joy at the thought of potions revision? Yeah, of course. But seriously, you want to check him again."

Ron turned back to survey the groups of people before the inevitable happened. God, it was painfully obvious that Harry was snoozing behind the protection of his textbook.

A small group of Hufflepuffs sat near them, which was good – Hufflepuffs were good for the latest gossip, meaning 'The Malfoy Story' would spread around the school like wildfire. The Ravenclaws on their other side were far too absorbed into their books for it to be healthy in his opinion – they took things much too seriously.

"HARRY! WAKE UP!" There we go.

"WHAT?!" Perfect timing, as usual, but wait for it.

"Miss Granger! I expected better of you. Mr Potter, this is your final warning!"

Ron ducked his head slightly to avoid a smack in the face – death by billowing robe was not on his list of ways to go.

"So, anyway. Now we know you're awake and definitely not studying, can I please tell my story?"

"Fine, you two do what you want. I'll be in the Goblin's Rights section." Ron ducked down again, narrowly missing Hermione's elbow, and winced as she stomped off.

"We have a Goblin's Rights section?" His best friend shrugged. "Anyway, guess who I found on the sixth floor this morning sucking the face off of some poor innocent?"

* * *

Harry swore he visibly gulped and even if Ron hadn't seen it, Hermione could have heard it all the way over in the Gremlin's Rights section or wherever she was.

"Who?" he asked, trying to muster some fake excitement from somewhere and begging that no sweat started to show through his loose T-shirt.

"Malfoy! God. It was horrible! No offence, mate. I've got nothing against gay's in general. But come on! This is Malfoy! I wanted to puke!

"I walk round the corner and the first thing I see is Malfoy attacking some guy's neck. And I can assure you it _was_ a guy 'cos he had his shirt up and everything. You couldn't even fit a piece of parchment between them, let alone a wand!

"And he wasn't exactly nice to the poor bloke either. Practically smashed him into a wall when he saw me. Boy's probably got a bruise on his back the size of Fred and George's secret stash.

"But didn't I tell you Malfoy was a ponce? Didn't I?"

Harry nodded his head wearily, trying his hardest not to lean back on his chair – he did have a bruise as big as Ron guessed, quite possibly bigger. It was then, through sheer will power alone, that he stopped himself yawning. All these late night rendezvous with his 'secret lover' were starting to affect him, but they had no other choice. Harry knew for a fact Hermione was past suspicious and one more wrong move would convince her it was time to intervene, although a probably more apt term would be to snoop. Draco had also told him that Pansy had figured out his newest interest, as she liked to call it, was not in Slytherin or Hufflepuff. He had also said that Blaise was 'on to them' – he explained that it was becoming tiresome to have to watch every word he spoke or gesture he made for possible hidden meanings Blaise could pull out. Harry had to ask himself one question at this point. Minus Ron, of course, why did they both have to have such smart friends? It made life, and sneaking around behind their backs in general, very difficult.

* * *

Later that day, the golden trio found themselves being called down to McGonagal's office. Well, technically, Ron and Hermione did, but Harry was hell bored and decided to tag along.

So, after a mumbled 'we won't be long' from Ron, Hermione knocked on the oak door and they disappeared inside.

Harry puffed his hair out of his eyes and leant on the wall nearby, hissing as pain shot up his back. He began to pass the time by groaning under his breath about revenge plans for a certain blond later.

Then, with timing rivalling the teamwork of Filch and his blasted cat, who should conveniently appear around the corner? Said blond was saying goodbye to someone Harry could not see. Before long, though, he had started to stride confidently down the deserted corridor, coming to a sudden halt in front of Harry.

"Hello, Harry," he practically purred as he stepped closer.

"No, not now. Ron and Hermione are less than ten metres away," was Harry's firm response as he tried to suppress the shivers that were already running through him.

"Aww, but you just can't turn me away, can you, Wonder Boy?" Already Harry could feel what little determination he had crumbling under the brilliant silver eyes of the Slytherin.

"No. We can't…" but his pulse was rising and he found himself tilting his head up ever so slightly.

"That's more like it…" But, alas, unfortunately for our lovers, Lady Fate did not seem to be on their side on this day. Just as their lips were about to touch, two things happened; firstly the door to the Professor's rooms clanged and began to swing open, and secondly, a male voice called Draco's name from down the Corridor.

Harry twisted his head to see Ron and Hermione, struck dumb with shock, while Draco seemed to be horrified to see one Blaise Zabini marching down the hallway towards them, his senses apparently recovered, and his wand already in his hand.

Immediately, Draco threw himself into action – but not before whispering to Harry a hurried, 'Lake, one hour.'

"Don't you dare even think of doing it again, Potter, or I swear next time…" He left his fake threat hanging, praying it would work, and backed up. He snarled at Blaise to follow as he stalked past.

"What the…Hey Harry, are you alright, mate?"

"Yeah, sure, fine…peachy…"

"He looks a bit dazed, Ron."

"Well, what can you expect, Malfoy's breath is probably disgusting…"

An uncomfortable silence fell over the corridor before Ron decided to speak again.

"So, Harry, what the bloody hell was that all about?"

"…"

"Well?"

"You know what?"

"What?"

"I haven't got a fucking clue."

* * *

That evening, Harry stood in the entrance hall waiting for his best friend. Ron had been dragged back to the library by Hermione shortly after their meeting with the Gryffindor head of house. Harry had managed to escape, he did not think he would ever find out exactly how, and met Draco by the lake. However, their encounter had been cut short by the Ravenclaw Quidditch team who had decided to pop in to make sure a fight was not occurring. Now, Harry might have been slightly paranoid at times, but he felt sure that on this day, someone was setting him up, his luck was just not _that_ bad!

Harry's mouth was beginning to water and Ron had still not appeared. Most people had already disappeared into the Great Hall, all of them smiling and chatting to each other.

It happened suddenly. He could not have avoided it. His arm was grabbed and he was dragged into the broom closet on the other side of the entrance hall. He heard the door bang shut behind his captor and he took the chance to snatch his arm back and step away.

"Draco! You scared me half to death!"

"Well, I'm sorry if this is the only way I could get you alone for more than thirty seconds."

And with that, his lips descended towards the other boy, but before he could get any further…

* * *

Ronald Weasley was annoyed. No, he was more than annoyed, he was distraught. Not only had his best friend left him with Hermione without giving the slightest of reasons. Ron did not know how he managed to do it, one moment he was there, the next he was gone. It was like he'd managed to slip into the piping of the school like a little snake. The rat!

And then, as if that was not enough, his best friend, _best friend_ , had left him to look like an idiot standing in the entrance hall waiting for him a dinner. He had given up when Hermione miraculously appeared from the confines of her sanctuary – the library – and frowned before pulling him off to dinner blabbing something about how 'easily Harry was distracted' and that he should 'know better by now.'

In fact, his temper was so great that his thundering stamps that were footsteps managed to vibrate up from the floor and knock over several drinks at the table. To his dismay, McGonagall swooped down on him before he could even sit, snapping that she would be kind enough not to deduct points for disturbance if he cleaned everything without magic immediately. She had then sped off towards the Hufflepuff table where a fifth year was torturing a first year with some previously unknown Weasley Wizard Wheeze.

And so, with exaggeratedly soft steps – which caused his head of house to scowl at him from across the length of the hall – he tiptoed from the Great Hall towards the broom closet in the entrance hall.

But what should Ronald Weasley have the misfortune – in his opinion – to come across when he opened aforementioned broom closet? Only Draco Malfoy standing 'innocently' in the centre of the room amongst the old, now unused cauldrons.

Now, Ron may have seen a few things in his lifetime, but when Malfoy was trying to look innocent it was definitely a bad and dodgy thing in his experience. It was also ever so slightly suspicious for him to be doing said fishy thing in a broom closet of all places where the dust was so thick for disuse that if you were to lay down and make a dust-angel, the imprint would probably be as deep as the person laying there's body.

" _Now_ what are you doing, Malfoy?" Not that Ron was an expert on lying but he was sure about two things at that time. Firstly, there could not be many plausible excuses for being here in the first place. Secondly, it was not possible for even Malfoy to make one up in a split second.

"Not that it's any of your business, Weasel, but Professor Snape sent me to retrieve something." Ron was dismayed to find that the excuse was entirely plausible – and perhaps a little put out, now he could not get him into trouble – but somehow, no matter how good of a lair Malfoy was and no matter how good the excuse was, he just knew, as in _**knew**_ , that this was a lie. His gut just told him it _was._ But he could not do anything, but one day…

"You just wait, Malfoy, one day I'll catch you in the act and no amount of lies and excuses will save you." With that, and his dignity still intact, Ron slammed the door shut again, before quickly slipping his hand back in and grabbing a cloth that lay next to the door. He then proceeded to slam the door again twice as hard as if doing so would make his departure more dramatic.

* * *

Harry's head poked out from one of the cauldrons when he deemed a safe amount of time to have passed. His hair was glued to his forehead by a sticky, orange substance that also splattered his robes. He groaned.

He remembered the reaction he had had the morning when Ron had almost caught them and realised that as the day had passed and they had skimmed past being discovered, he had somehow managed to hone his reflexes to naturally find a hiding place as soon as he and Draco entered a room alone.

"Harry, I don't suggest you face your friends with a blush like that on your cheeks."

"I'm not hungry anyway."

"Right, that's it, we're going to…"

"NO! We can't tell them yet."

"That wasn't actually what I was going to suggest. What I was going to say was I'll meet you in the entrance hall in two hours, if you're free. I know the perfect place to spend some quality time with you."

"Yeah, I'm free." Harry pecked his lover on the lips before darting for the stairs; he needed to get up at least one floor before Ron came back with the cloth.

Harry knew they really should take more precautions. That was three times in one day they had nearly been discovered, and that was only from Ron's efforts. But he was free tonight and he could make up some bogus excuse about a detention with Snape – neither of his friends would ever have the courage to actually make sure it was true – to get away from them.

Harry had not had a free night for a while now. Hermione had been bullying him more than ever to keep to his homework timetable. But now he knew for a fact all his homework was up to date and he did not have anymore meetings for the DA. The Christmas holidays started at the end of the week and the group had decided to have the last week without a lesson.

And so, Harry headed for his dorm with a smile upon his face. Little did he know that obviously his memory was not quite up to scratch and that soon his three rules would all be broken in a mere few seconds.

* * *

"Well, great practise everyone," Hermione said, dazzling her crowd with a flash of flawless, white teeth. "Sorry Harry wasn't here, but Ron and I'll make sure he's here after Christmas."

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll be really impressed with your multiple stinging hex, Neville…even if half of them _do_ come back and hit you…"

"What Ron means to say is he'll be pleased with all of our progress, don't you, Ron."

"Course. Well see you next time, guys. Oh, wait, Neville, let me get the door for you."

"Don't worry, it'll wear off in a second and I'll…"

However, before the group could reach the door, it banged viciously open. Two figures practically sprinted into the room and a voice echoed loudly in the quiet space.

Ron stood, thunderstruck for a second, before crashing to the floor, practically petrified.

* * *

"Draco," Harry could hear the whine in his own voice but at that moment he did not think caring would really matter. One thing was for sure, Draco was not going to correct his attitude at the current time. "Don't be so vulgar. Can't you say, 'make love'? And where are we going anyway?"

"A fuck is a fuck, Harry. I'm not a poet."

"But you make it sound like it doesn't mean anything."

"As you have pointed out many times in the past, most of the things I say don't sound like they 'mean anything' as you put it. Countless times now I have proved otherwise. I won't get bored of you, Harry. You're not a passing fancy."

"Alright, alright, but you know it still sounds vulgar. And you don't have to pull my arm off…I won't wonder off and get lost. I've lived here for seven years now."

"Yet you still don't know where we're going."

"That's because you won't tell me…hang on. I know this corridor!"

"Finally, that's right. Give me a sec'."

"So it's come down to this?"

"…What? Sneaking off to the Room of Requirement because our friends' noses are too big?"

"Well, I was going to say it a bit more politely but…" Harry smiled as the grand double doors materialised in front of them and they began towards them, hand in hand.

"Look," Draco said, his voice becoming stronger as he turned back to speak to him while his free hand flung the door open brutally. "I haven't had more than five mangy, fucking minutes alone with you in two whole months, let alone sex. I won't be held responsible if I jump you in the Great Hall tomorrow at breakfast if I don't have you right now! And this room had better have provided the best bed in history, because you're in for the shag of your life!"

"Draco, vulg…oh."

_**CRASH!** _

Ron could not remember his head ever hurting so much before. He also could not remember his memory ever coming back so slowly after passing out before. Wait, passing out…

Ohh, yeah.

' _DA meeting…Neville stinging hexes…help to door…bang open…"five mangy, fucking minutes…let alone sex…jump you in the Great Hall…have you right now…best bed in history…shag of your life"…_

' _That had been Malfoy speaking to…'_

" **Harry!** God there you are! Please tell me it was all a dream. Why are we still in the room?"

"I revived you, Ronald."

"Erm, thanks Herm, but, Harry…what the _fuck_ is he doing here."

"Well if you'd all bugger off so I could get to the fucking it would be most appreciated."

"Shut up, Draco."

"Yes, Harry."

"Harry…this morning… **it was you!** "

"Ron?"

"Yes?"

"Just shut up and accept it."

"…"


End file.
